I Was There
by Shilly
Summary: This was originally written for Religion class. It is a second draft only, nothing perfect. I decided to post it to get some feedback.


Shanna Crumley

Religion M-1

I Was There

3-28-05

Mark 14

I Was There

I was at the end of my rope, the last thread. Everyone had let me down, and I was all alone. I felt bitter, like I wasn't even living anymore. This was how I was feeling when we traveled to Jerusalem for Passover that year.

My brother and I were from Bethany. Years before, when our parents were killed, my older brother Levi and I had been sent to stay with our cousin Simon and his wife. Once Levi became of age, however, he moved to another part of Bethany, to open his own carpentry shop. I moved with him, as he was my closest family. When I was 13, I was apprenticed to a seamstress, Martha, who lived near us. Levi decided I should learn something useful, but little did he know. Each day as I sat in the back room pricking my fingers in the attempt to hem curtains, I would overhear the gossip. The ladies who came in to chat with Martha would whisper about me. They would comment on my status as a poor orphan girl who was cursed to live with her brother. My brother had a reputation as a harsh and bitter man. Sadly, this reputation was true most of the time. Lately, though, Levi had been happier. Ever since the resurrection of Lazarus, he had been more cheerful and talkative, and always rushing out to meetings with Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha. More than once he had encouraged me to go, but I was wary of these meetings, because of what Jamie, my friend from the market, had said.

"Those people who study the Scriptures all the time, those followers of Yeshua. Stay away from them. They're up to no good, mark my words. 'Tis best to stick with the priests and keep outta trouble. Best stay away from them, Bethie," he'd say in his crusty, wise old voice. Jamie was my best friend, the only one I could confide in. A few months later, though, he passed on, leaving behind his words of wisdom.

After this, I was wary of the Yeshua followers. I lived my simple, sad life, and turned away from my brother. I advanced in my sewing, and formed a routine. Often, as an escape, I would travel to the Mount of Olives, to the garden of Gethsemane. The garden had a certain presence to it, though I had long since given up hope in God. Still, it gave me peace and comfort. I enjoyed long walks to think and clear my mind.

The seasons passed, and soon I was 17. Levi had begged me to join him for Passover that year. We were both Jewish, and Levi was excited because Yeshua would be there. Finally, I agreed to travel with him, because there was no changing his mind once he was set on something.

When we arrived in Jerusalem, everything was busy, hectic with preparations for the coming celebration. We stayed with a friend of Levi's, on the east end of the city. We attended the various feasts and festivities every day, and were kept busy. Finally one night, the night before Pilate was to release a prisoner to the crowds, I found myself free for a while. I decided to take a walk, and ended up at my garden, Gethsemane.

The moonlight shone through the olive trees, transforming the mountain into a garden of silver. I walked down a slope, towards a stand of silver-laced trees. I paused in the middle of the meadow, throwing my head back and gazing at the stars. Stars had been a constant in my life, something that had always stayed the same, from the time I was a young child to now, a young woman alone here. I sighed, thinking back on my life. Really, what was good? Where had I gone so wrong to end up here, hopeless and helpless, depressed and deflated. I was missing something, I could feel it. I was reaching out to it, but whatever it was, it kept out of reach. I needed something, something different. A change.

Just then, I heard someone cry out softly. I jerked in the direction of the sound, surprised to hear someone in the garden at this hour.

"Abba, Father! You can do all things. Take away this cup of suffering. But do what you want, not what I want." (Mark 14:36)

I crept closer, not wanting to disturb the man. He was kneeling at the base of a tree, sobbing. Who was this man? He tipped his face skyward, silently pleading. He was praying to God. But he had called him Father. Could this be Yeshua, the man my brother held in such high esteem? The supposed King of the Jews?

The man stood shakily, stumbling towards a nearby stump. When I looked closer, I saw three men huddled at the base, sleeping. The man shook one of them awake, his voice trembling.

"Simon, are you sleeping? Couldn't you stay awake with me for one hour?" Turning to the other two, he said, "Stay awake and pray for strength against temptation. The spirit wants to what is right, but the body is weak." (Mark 14:37, 38)

The first man, Peter, rubbed his eyes, staring blearily up at his Master.

"Lord Jesus, I am sorry," He stammered. The other two men looked down ashamedly, agreeing. Yeshua sighed and shuffled back to the tree where I had first seen him.

I continued to watch him pray, and his feeble attempts to wake his disciples each time they fell asleep. I wanted to reach out to him, but I couldn't.

He cried out occasionally, his body wracking with pain and tears. His forehead was perspiring, blood I realized.

After his third prayer, He sadly went to His followers, who were once again sleeping. He spoke to them, shaking them awake.

"Get up, we must go. Look, here comes the man who has turned against me."

I turned, looking in the direction he pointed. In the meadow, a group of people carrying torches and swords was rushing towards Jesus. Leading this pack was a man with a haunted look in his eyes, his body rigid with determination. He muttered something to the men behind him, then stepped up to Jesus.

"Teacher!" He exclaimed, kissing Yeshua. As he pulled away, he looked Jesus in the eye briefly, the guilt in his eyes burning deep. Then he stepped aside.

The people seized Jesus roughly. Peter quickly pulled out his sword and cut off one of the servants' ear. Jesus reprimanded Peter, though, and healed the servant's ear. I knew then that this truly was the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth who had performed so many miracles and healed my brother's friend Lazarus.

Suddenly, the three disciples turned and ran, their terror getting the best of them. I was glued in my place, unnoticed by any of the men. The men surrounding Jesus began to move off.

Jesus submitted himself to the people, not fighting back or even protesting. How could he stay calm through this? Why didn't he perform some great miracle, and free himself? Why was he allowing them to treat him like this?

The group moved off towards the gate, but I still could not move. Slowly, I sank to the ground.

The crowd faded off, and the night resumed it's place around me. I could not understand it. I had seen someone who looked like he felt like me. I could identify with him. But he had the power to stop it, to cease the pain from taking him down. Why did he allow this to happen to himself? From the stories my brother had told, this man was the mightiest, most gentle, kind person in all of Judea. Why would they want to hurt him, and why would he let them?

Slowly it dawned on me. This Jesus, Yeshua, was the Messiah. In the prophecies, the Messiah was here to deliver the Jews. But he had to go through trials and turmoil to deliver us. But he was here to help me! He was here to help all of the helpless. He knew how I felt, what I was going through. This man was here to show us what to do, how to be like Him.

I wanted the peace I had seen on His face, even when he was being arrested and carried off. Jesus had an inner peace I wanted this faith, that no matter what happened, I would be calm, because I had faith in this Yeshua's God.

Sitting up straight, I knew what I must do. I would run back to the house, and ask Levi what to do next, how I could change. I wanted this Yeshua to be my Messiah, too, and His God to be my God. Smiling slightly, I jumped up, with new energy. For the first time in months, I let out a joyful laugh. I had found what I had been looking for. Happiness, and peace! Thank you, Jesus! Praise the Lord!


End file.
